


No Cooking

by thatwriterlady



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Castiel Can't Cook, Chef Dean, Claire Is Mischievous, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Flirting, Fluff, Gay Male Character, M/M, Mutual Attraction, Prompt Fic, Single Parent Castiel, Teenage Claire Novak, Twitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 06:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14664909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatwriterlady/pseuds/thatwriterlady
Summary: Cas is a single dad, doing his best to take care of his daughter, Claire.  If you ask her, he's the best dad in the world and she loves him a ton.  There's not much he can't do, except cook.  The man can't cook to save his life.  His every attempt ends with burned pans, the remnants of what once was food, and a very disgruntled Cas.  He tries, he really does, but no matter what he attempts to make, it never comes out even close to what he was attempting to create.With his foray into cooking, Claire begins tweeting about her father's kitchen mishaps.  One tweet led to another, and before she knows it, she's Twitter famous.  People are invested in her tweets, and seeing the food her dad manages to keep ruining.  When she accidentally posts a picture one morning of more than just her dad's cooking-this one includes her dad, hot, sweaty, and shirtless after his morning run, it sets off a Twitter storm unlike anything she's ever experienced before.  Suddenly everyone wants to know if her dad is single, and she's amused.  Until a famous chef shows interest.  That gives Claire an idea, one that will benefit herandher dad...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so, this was another prompt from a group, and I wanted to try my hand at it because I thought it was so cute. So if you see other stories out there based on this prompt, well, it was a popular prompt, lol. Hopefully you'll like my version. I waited about two months before posting this, just in case. Enjoy, I'll see you all at the end!

********

 

Claire poked at the mess on her plate and frowned. “What is this?”

“Eggs,” Her father, Cas, replied. “Eat up, you have to get ready for school.”

“Dad, eggs are not supposed to be black.” She grimaced and set her fork down. He sighed and rolled his eyes as he carried a plate over and set it in front of her.

“Stop complaining and eat,” he ordered. She picked up one of the blackened squares on the plate and squinted at it.

“Is this supposed to be toast?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Why is this black too?”

He growled as he carried his own plate to the table and sat down across from her. “Do you ever stop complaining?”

She smirked as she picked up her fork and used it to scrape the burnt part off the toast. Once she could see brown again she grabbed the butter and smeared it on. The eggs were inedible, but the toast was somewhat salvageable. She watched as her father scooped up a forkful of his own black, somewhat slimy-looking eggs and put it in his mouth. Two seconds later he was spitting it back onto the plate.

“These are disgusting.” He grabbed his glass of orange juice and drank half of it down in an attempt to wash the taste out of his mouth. “I followed the instructions; I don’t know how this happened.”

“Face it dad, there are many things you are talented at, but cooking is not one of them.” She finished her piece of toast and stood up, grabbing her plate and carrying it over to the garbage can and throwing it out. When she turned around he was holding his own plate out. She laughed as she grabbed it and tossed his eggs in the garbage too.

“Here, grab yourself something edible out of the vending machine at school.” He handed over $5 and she tucked it into the front pocket of her jeans. Now she could get a muffin or a bagel. Either was preferable to what he’d just tried to serve for breakfast.

“I have to get going or I’ll be late. Do me a favor? Please don’t try to cook anything else.” She kissed the top of his head as she passed by, grabbing her backpack on her way out. He sighed and got up to put the burned pan and the dirty plates in the sink.

“Maybe I’ll be better at making chicken,” he pondered. Yes, he’d try making dinner tonight. There had to be something he could cook right.


	2. Chapter 2

The house was empty when she got home from school, but the lingering smell of burnt eggs seemed to still permeate the air, making her wrinkle her nose.  That odor had been stuck in her sinuses all day, and she’d shared the horror story with her friends at lunch. It was an endless source of amusement whenever she came to school with tales of her father’s attempts at cooking and somehow, after a few initial tweets about her dad’s foray into cooking two years back, her Twitter had become dedicated to his cooking mishaps.  Though everyone else found it funny, she didn’t find it quite as entertaining since her dad expected her to eat whatever he made. 

 

Making her way into the kitchen, she headed for the fridge to grab a yogurt.  She frowned when she saw chicken breasts marinating on the top shelf.

 

“Shit.”  

 

She pulled her phone out and texted her friend Stacey.

 

**Claire:**  Omg, my dad is planning to cook dinner later.

 

It didn’t take her long to respond.

 

**Stacey:**  How do you know?  Is he home and in the kitchen?

 

**Claire:**  No, he’s still at work but there are chicken breasts marinating in the fridge.  I don’t even know what the liquid is that they’re in, it’s sort of reddish brown and smells like garlic and vinegar.  Gross.

 

**Stacey:**  You should cook them before he turns them into charcoal.

 

She laughed and shook her head as she typed back.  Stacey wasn’t wrong.

 

**Claire:**  If I make them he’ll pitch a fit, and then I’ll still be subjected to whatever he tries to create next.  I live in a permanent state of heartburn from his kitchen experiments. Why do you think I try to do most of the cooking?  If I didn’t, I’d starve!

 

**Stacey:**  Wow, drama queen much?  Lol. You really should cook those before he gets home.

 

The front door opened, and she heard her father’s keys hit the bowl by the front door.  Damn it, she was out of time.

 

“Claire?”

 

She swore under her breath as she closed the fridge door, yogurt forgotten.

 

“In here.”

 

Her father walked in, a happy smile on his face as he loosened his tie.  “How was school?”

 

“Same as always.”  She sighed as she texted Stacey back, telling her she had to go.

 

“I’m making chicken and rice for dinner tonight,” he announced as he headed for the fridge.

 

“Please make the rice in the rice cooker,” she begged.  “Don’t make it on the stove; you ruined a pot the last time you did.”

 

“How am I going to learn if I don’t practice?” he asked as he pulled the chicken out and set it on the counter.

 

“Dad, there’s no shame in making it in the rice cooker.”  She watched as he pulled a cake pan out from under the sink and grabbed the can of olive oil spray.  This was going to be a disaster, she could already tell.

 

“Fine, I’ll make it in the cooker.  I have a recipe for a rosemary, garlic and kale rice.  I’m going to try that.” He hummed as he pulled the rice cooker out, not seeing the look of frustration on his daughter’s face.  She slipped from the room, not wanting to be around to watch him ruin more food. 

 

Upstairs in her room, she opened her Twitter and typed out a tweet.

 

_ “My dad’s attempting to cook again.  Another variation on dried out, burned food that may or may not be identifiable later.  Good thing I have yogurt in the fridge to eat later when I can’t digest his newest creation.  I’ll have pics later.” _

 

Almost immediately people started liking her tweet and responding.

 

_ “Take pictures, we want to see how awful it really looks.” _

 

_ “Don’t choke.” _

 

_ “Why doesn’t your mom cook if your dad is so bad at it?” _

 

More people were commenting on her tweet and some of the things they were saying were hilarious.  Maybe she could start taking pics of her dad actually cooking, rather than just of his finished creations.  She regretted not taking pictures of the black eggs this morning. Tonight, she’d get pics of his chicken and rice dinner.  Hopefully it didn’t make her sick.


	3. Chapter 3

“Claire?  Dinner!” 

 

She winced as she closed her English Composition notebook and got up from her desk.  With her phone tucked in her back pocket, she made her way down to the kitchen. The smell that hit her made her stomach turn and she covered her nose to try and block it out.

 

“Dad, what’s that smell?”

 

“Oh, that’s the rice.”  He was grimacing, so at least he found the smell as disgusting as she did.

 

“Is that garlic and kale, or did you do something else?”

 

‘Well, I came across another recipe, so I thought I’d try it.  It called for soy sauce.” He frowned as he carried the rice cooker bowl to the table and set it down.  Keeping one hand over her nose she lifted the lid to see what he’d done. She almost wished she hadn’t.

 

“Dad, the rice is almost black.  What is in this besides soy sauce?”

 

“Um, diced onions, garlic, I added the kale in anyway, parmesan…”

 

She wanted to hurl as he kept listing ingredients.  Was that a tomato chunk? Even that was nearly black.  She snapped a quick picture when his back was turned of the rice mess and put the lid back on it. He had gone back to the stove to get the pan with the chicken and bring it to the table.  It was so dried out and shriveled there was no way they’d be able to eat it without choking. She couldn’t fathom how someone could be so bad at cooking. Her dad burned pans just trying to boil water.

 

“We can’t eat this; you know that, right?”  She watched him slide a piece of chicken onto his own plate and cringed in horror when it clinked against the ceramic like a rock.  His shoulders fell and he dropped his eyes.

 

“I just wanted to make a nice dinner.”

 

She lowered her hand and walked over to him, wrapping him up in a hug.

 

“It’s ok, you tried.  How about I make us some roast beef sandwiches and we’ll go watch Midnight Texas? We’re almost caught up on season one now.”

 

“I don’t know why I’m so bad at this!  I followed the directions, set timers so I wouldn’t overcook the meat, used recipes with explicit instructions, and still it comes out inedible.”

 

He sniffled and she hugged him tighter.  His arms came up to hold her tight against his side.

 

“No one is perfect.  You’re a surgeon, Dad, not a chef.  No chef could do what you do. Everyone has different talents and abilities.  Yours is in saving peoples’ lives.” 

 

“Thank you, princess.  Help me clean this mess up and I’ll do us one better, I’ll order sushi.”  He patted her back and she let go, reaching out to grab the rice cooker. As he stood up, she took a couple quick pictures of the chicken.  If they’d tried to eat that one or both of them might have chipped a tooth. 

 

“Fine, but once this is thrown out I’m turning on the fan over the stove and this bag is going out to the can  _ tonight _ .”

 

He laughed as he dumped the two rock hard chicken breasts in the trash can.  It sounded like he’d just dropped two stones in it.

 

“I’ll run it out there now if you get the dishwasher loaded.”

 

“Deal!” she agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

_ “So he burned the chicken and what exactly did he do with the rice?  Was that black rice he used?” _

 

_ “No, he overcooked the chicken, that’s what her tweet said, but he didn’t burn it. That sounds like a first for him though. Was the rice cooker ruined?” _

 

_ “You need a personal chef, and for your dad to stay out of the kitchen.” _

 

_ “Your poor dad, I feel bad for him.” _

 

_ “What does your dad look like?” _

 

Claire read through all of the comments.  Some people could be real jerks on Twitter but most of the people that followed her and her tales of her dad’s awful cooking were pretty nice.  She’d posted the pictures tonight of his creations and sure, one person said the rice looked like something people shit out after a bad sushi dinner.  She found that one offensive because she ate sushi all the time with her dad and they never got sick from it. His attempts at tuna casserole, chili, broccoli soup, and enchiladas, though, had all made her sick.  She talked so much about him and how wonderful he was, but she realized that she’d never posted pictures of him on any of her social media, only his cooking. Her friends knew what he looked like because they would come hang out (always before or after dinner.  They never stuck around for any meals her dad prepared), and she knew her friend Hannah had a huge crush on him (gross, he was  _ ancient _ ), but aside from them and the people in his everyday life, no one in her social media world knew what he looked like.  

 

Thankfully he worked late the rest of the week and she got to make dinner every night, but come Saturday morning she could hear him banging around in the kitchen.  Checking the time, she groaned when she saw it was only eight. He’d probably come back from his morning run and decided to make breakfast. She hauled herself out of bed and went downstairs to see what he was up to.

 

“Good morning, baby girl.  Sleep well?” He was smiling wide as she walked in the room.

 

“Yeah, though I wanted to sleep in later.  You woke me up banging pans and stuff.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and walked over to the stove.  “What are you making?”

 

“Bacon,” he replied.  She cocked an eyebrow at the frozen lump of meat in the middle of the frying pan.  

 

“That’s bacon?”

 

“It will be once it’s cooked,” he replied. She noticed he was cooking shirtless, and he was still covered in sweat, his hair damp and clinging to his forehead. Yep, he’d definitely just come back from his morning run. She had brought her phone down with her and while his attention was on the bacon he was trying to pry apart with his fork, she snapped a picture.  He was so engrossed in what he was doing he didn’t even notice her doing it.

 

“Ow!”  He cried when the grease popped and hit him in the chest.  She giggled and walked over to the table, sitting down to post the picture on Twitter.  It took her a moment to come up with the right title. When her dad cried out again as more grease hit his skin, she got it.

 

_ “Meet my dad, the worst cook in the world.” _

 

She added the photo and hashtagged the hell out of it before posting it.  It was amusing to think that maybe some chef out there might see it and get a good laugh out of it.

 

“What are you doing?  You’re always on that phone,” her dad grumbled.  When she looked over she saw that he’d wisely put an apron on to protect his chest.  That made her laugh.

 

“Just looking at stuff on Twitter.  Did you know Trump is sending the National Guard to monitor the border between the U.S. and Mexico?  He’s an idiot,” she deflected. The last thing she wanted was for her dad to know she had an entire Twitter account dedicated to his bad cooking, it would embarrass him, and she loved him too much for that.

 

“I did hear about that, it showed up in the news alerts I get on my phone.  He’s worse than an idiot, he’s incompetent, selfish, and utterly self-serving.  He’s a disgrace to this country.” He growled as he flipped his block of bacon over.  From where she sat she could see that the strips weren’t coming apart as easily as he wanted.  Next time she’d have to remind him to thaw the pack out first.

 

Her phone started buzzing with notifications of all the people liking and replying to her tweet.  She had over two  _ thousand _ followers, all wanting to know what her father’s next kitchen failure was going to be.  The tweet already had over 60 likes and over a 100 retweets. 

 

_ “What IS that?” _

 

_ “Why is he cooking shirtless?  That’s an accident waiting to happen.” _

 

_ “Your dad is HOT!!!  Is he single? Think he’d be interested in a 22-year-old pharmacy tech?” _

 

_ “Is that bacon he’s trying to make?  Why is it in a big block?” _

 

_ “Your dad is fine!  Is he single?” _

 

_ “Do you need a stepmom?” _

 

She giggled as she started replying.  Her dad was attractive, she knew that much, but these comments were just hilarious.  She made a second tweet so the ladies would all know they didn’t have a chance.

 

_ “Yes, he’s single, but sorry ladies, he’s gay.” _

 

That triggered a whole host of new comments that started flooding in, and a ton more followers.  

 

_ “Your dad’s gay?  You in the market for a stepDAD instead of a stepmom?  I can cook; I’m actually a chef.” _

 

That comment had her smiling.  Dean Winchester had been following her Twitter account for over a year now and had commented a few times with advice on ways to help her dad cook without ruining things and she’d shared his tips with her dad, not that he was good at following them, but she’d never really checked out his Twitter page.  She went there now and sure enough, there was a picture of Dean standing with Barack Obama, shaking hands in what was clearly a restaurant. Dean was dressed in a white chef’s coat and smiling proudly. His pinned tweet stated:

 

_ “Five star restaurant owner and chef with restaurants in San Francisco, Los Angeles, Hollywood, and Beverly Hills.” _

 

Under that was the link to his business page.  The restaurants were named ‘Impala Rose’. It was a pretty cool name.  She clicked it and the first page that popped up was a bright, colorful picture of one of the restaurants’ dining rooms.  It looked fancy but not  _ too _ fancy.  Page by page she went through everything, reading about the organic products that were used, sustainable materials in the furniture and dishware, and the private farms that supplied the meat.  Frankly, they sounded like fantastic places to eat. It surprised her that someone like Dean Winchester, if it even  _ was _ Dean commenting from his profile (she imagined that someone as big and important as this guy was would probably have people running his Twitter account since he was verified) would be looking at her account.  She was nobody, a high school junior who had, by some twist of fate, become extremely popular because she tweeted about her dad’s cooking mishaps. 

 

There was an “about” page that explained when the first restaurant was opened (2007), where Dean went to culinary school (The Culinary Institute of America), and how, since he was a little boy baking pies with his mother, he’d wanted to grow up and own a restaurant of his own.  Dean was a master chef, lived in San Francisco, and his favorite food was burgers, which his restaurants all carried a wide variety of. She couldn’t help but be curious about the man. The few pictures there were on the website of him showed an extremely attractive man with a killer smile and deep green eyes that she was pretty sure her dad would drool over.  

 

She made the decision to reply to Dean’s comment, just to see if it was really him or his staff that was on his page.

 

_ “Maybe.  Depends. Are you really Dean Winchester or someone on his staff running his page for him?” _

 

“Oh, damn it,”  Her dad’s muttering brought her attention back to the fact that she was still sitting in the kitchen, and he was still trying to cook the bacon.  No, scratch that, now he was trying to fry eggs, lord help him. She could already smell that they were burning.

 

“Turn down the heat,” she told him.  He did, grumbling at himself under his breath.  She snickered at his adorableness. He was a 43-year-old man who couldn’t cook to save his life and when he got upset with himself, he pouted like a five-year-old. Her phone buzzed in her hand, reminding her that she’d just contacted a hot guy.   _ For her dad. _  She checked and saw that one of the notifications was from Dean.  It was exciting knowing she had gotten someone as cool as a popular chef interested in her dad.

 

Pulling up the Twitter app again she sorted through her notifications until she saw his response.

 

_ “It’s me, Dean.  I don’t let anyone man this account except me.  The Twitter page for my restaurants though is managed by people on my staff.  It says you’re located here in San Francisco. Is that true?” _

 

She chewed on her lower lip before deciding to check and see if his DM’s were open.  They were, so she messaged him there privately.

 

_ “Yep, we live here in San Fran.  My dad’s a surgeon at UCSF. He’s a cardiac surgeon specializing in transplants.  I’m an only child, a junior at Chauncey Prep.” _

 

Dean’s reply was almost instantaneous.   _ “I’d like to invite you and your dad to dinner at my San Fran restaurant, on me.  Think you can talk him into coming?” _

 

She glanced up at her dad, who was scraping burnt eggs into the garbage.  They looked as black and awful as the last time he’d tried. The bacon was burned too, but luckily, she liked burnt bacon.  Probably because that was the only way he knew how to make it.

 

“Hey Dad, how does dinner out tonight sound?”

 

He looked up, a questioning look on his face.  “Where were you thinking?”

 

“A place called Impala Rose.  You ever been there?” 

 

“No, I have not.  I’ve heard of it though.  They’re supposed to have the best burgers in the city.  You want to go there?” He dropped the pan from the eggs into the sink and turned to the fridge to get out fruit.

 

“I, um, know the owner.  He invited me tonight, and you.”

 

This time when he looked at her there was genuine surprise on his face.

 

“How do  _ you _ know the owner of one of the most popular restaurant chains in the state?”

 

“He follows me on Twitter,” she replied simply.  His jaw went slack, and he stared at her in disbelief.

 

“He.  Follows  _ you _ .  Why on earth is he following a 16-year-old girl?”

 

“Well, for starters?  My age isn’t listed on my Twitter.  My bio says I’m a San Fran native that loves my dad, Harry Potter, and gelato.  No mention of my age at all, and second? He follows me because my Twitter page is awesome and I tweet a lot of cool stuff.  I like Twitter more than Facebook. I have more than 2,000 followers. Dean’s just one of them.” She shrugged, wanting to sound casual and hoping her dad didn’t ask her what  _ kind  _ of cool stuff she posted.  Thankfully, he wasn’t a fan of social media.  He had a Facebook because she’d set one up for him.  It was how he kept up with his brothers and sister, two of whom lived back in Illinois.  He’d go on there every once in a while to see the pictures they put up and read about whatever was going on in their lives without having to actually pick up a phone and call one of them.  Everyone except his brother Gabriel had shut him out for years when he’d come out, and it was only within the last ten years or so that her Uncle Michael and Aunt Naomi had started speaking to him again.  To avoid possible arguments, her dad stuck to occasionally messaging them on Facebook or just reading whatever they posted. 

 

Besides the occasional use of Facebook, her dad was pretty out of touch with social media.  It was how, for the last two years, she’d kept a Twitter account that had somehow become almost a blog about her dad’s horrendous cooking.  He seemed to be contemplating the offer.

 

“You’re certain he has invited us?  I can pay, that’s not a problem, but I don’t want to be embarrassed if we show up and we’re told there was no such offer.”

 

“That’s not going to happen.  Dean extended the offer himself and since he owns the place, I believe him,” she said.  He carried a variety of fruit, all sorts of berries, some grapes, and a couple of kiwis to the table before backtracking to get some bowls and the bacon.

 

“Well, if that’s what you want, we can go.”  He conceded. She smiled wide before tapping out a message to Dean.

 

_ “He says we’ll be there tonight.  He does NOT know what my Twitter page is about, only that I have one, so please don’t mention it?  He is so sweet and he would be embarrassed, not because he can’t cook, he has come to terms with that, but because I made my entire Twitter about him.  He’s not the type to want the attention focused on him. He’s sort of shy.” _

 

She waited, chewing at her bottom lip again as she waited to see if he would respond.  When he did, she almost cheered out loud.

 

_ “Well, he has a large fan base and thousands of people that are rooting for his cooking skills to improve.  I’ll set reservations for seven. I’m putting you at my private table. See you then.” _

 

“He set reservations for us at seven.  I can’t wait to try one of their burgers.  They’re a five star restaurant that serves  _ burgers _ .  Do you know how rare that is?  I bet they’re amazing.”

 

“I can’t believe you’re friends with a restaurant owner,” her dad chuckled.  “That’s…pretty cool.”

 

“I’m friends with people more popular than him too.  Chris Evans and Tyler Perry follow me too. Oh, and some senator from like, Vermont.  I’d have to look through to find him, I can’t remember his name.” 

 

His eyes practically bugged out as she started naming people that followed her.

 

“But… _ why _ ?  You’re just a high school student, not a celebrity; don’t they follow other celebrities and not regular people?”

 

“If your Twitter page is interesting enough, they follow you.  I make mine interesting.” She shrugged.

 

“I wish Chris Evans was gay.  I’d be all over that man if he was.”  He sighed dreamily as he started filling their bowls with berries.  She giggled and reached for a piece of bacon. It tasted like turkey flavored ash, just the way she liked it.


	5. Chapter 5

Cas had to go to the hospital for several consultations, which meant Claire had the house to herself for most of the day.  After a breakfast of fruit, bacon, and cereal (she ate that  _ after _ her dad left), she headed back to bed.  Around noon she was woken up by the doorbell ringing.  With a disgruntled moan, she pulled herself out of bed and trudged downstairs to see who was there.  She peeked through the peephole to see two of her best friends standing there.

 

“What are you guys doing here?”  She asked as she opened the door.  Both Hannah and Stacey swept past her and into the foyer, not waiting for an invitation.  They never needed one at the Novak house.

 

“Oh my God, is it true?”  Stacey asked excitedly.

 

“Is what true?”  Claire had no idea what she was talking about.

 

“Are you not checking your Twitter?  Dean Winchester, owner of the Impala Rose restaurants, has a date with your dad!  Tonight!” 

 

Claire wasn’t awake enough for this.  

 

“I need coffee.”  She marched into the kitchen and popped a pod into the Keurig and after adding water, shoved a mug under it.  “I’ll be right back; my phone’s upstairs.”

 

After retrieving it, she opened up the Twitter app.  There were more than  _ 600 _ notifications waiting and as she watched, new ones kept popping up.

 

“What the hell is going on?  My dad doesn’t have a date with Dean; he invited us to his restaurant, that’s all.”

 

“Yeah, cause your dad is hot,”  Hannah exclaimed. She was usually quiet and soft spoken, but the girl was buzzing with excitement in that moment.  

 

“Ok, so yeah, Dean thinks Dad is hot.  He’s been a gentleman so far. Besides, it’s not a date if I’m there too.  I’m not third wheeling tonight.”

 

“It’s tonight?  O.M.G. You  _ have  _ to live tweet it!”  Stacey cried. “I have to know if it’s love at first sight!”

 

Claire huffed out a laugh as she grabbed creamer from the fridge to add to her coffee.

 

“There’s no such thing as love at first sight.  Lust, yes. Attraction, definitely, but love? No, don’t believe in it.  My dad was daydreaming at breakfast about Chris Evans again. That’s why we watched all of the Avenger and Captain America movies.  He has a crush on Chris. Wait til he sees Dean tonight and finds out that Dean’s even  _ more _ attractive than Chris.”  She grinned as she leaned back against the counter to listen to her friends as they excitedly babbled about how handsome Dean had to be in order to be hotter than Chris Evans.  

 

“Hold on, I’ll show you Dean.”  She pulled up the man’s Twitter page and then pressed on the link to his restaurants.  The picture on the “About” page of Dean was pretty nice. Once it was loaded she turned her phone around so her friends could see it.  They both gaped at the picture, their eyes nearly bulging out of their heads.

 

“He’s so gorgeous!”  Hannah sighed dreamily.

 

“I wish he was our age and not your dad’s.  He’s so hot!” Stacey pouted. Claire laughed as she went back to weeding through her notifications to see what was being said about her dad and Dean having a date tonight.  Most of it was likes and retweets, and dozens of new followers, but there were close to a hundred comments on her post about her dad being gay.

 

_ “Is he really single?  I can’t imagine a man that gorgeous is not already taken.” _  One man had asked.  He wasn’t one of her followers so she went to check his page.  Turns out he followed Dean and saw Dean’s comment that morning.  She gasped when she saw that it was Dean responding to people inquiring about her dad.

 

_ “Back off, I’ve already invited @wknd_dreamer and her dad to dinner.” _

 

_ “Like a date?  Did you ask him out @Winchester_One?” _

 

_ “Not a date, but I’m hoping a guy as gorgeous as him, and as sweet as his daughter says he is, will be interested in a simple cook like me.” _

 

_ “If you strike out, I’m definitely interested!” _

 

_ “BACK OFF!” _

 

The various exchanges between people interested in her dad and Dean were downright hilarious.

 

“Wow, he’s really interested in my dad.”

 

“No shit,”  Stacey huffed.  “I hope your dad likes him back.”

 

“I hope so too, he’s been single for too long, ever since Balthazar dumped him.  He was in a funk for at least a year after that. Balthazar used to do all of the cooking and after he left, well, Dad has tried really hard to learn.”

 

“Balthazar was an asshole.  He always had an attitude when we’d stay over, and this wasn’t even his house!  He didn’t even live here!” Stacey crossed her arms and glared at the sliding doors that led out to the yard as she recalled the snippy comments the Brit would make whenever they came to hang out with Claire, or heaven forbid, spend the night.  

 

“Yeah, he was.  But he’s long gone, living back in England with the man he left my dad for.  Good riddance. Dean seems really nice. I hope he is.” Claire sat down at the table, so her friends did too.

 

“What became of the bacon this morning?”  Hannah asked.

 

“Well, he attempted eggs again, fried, not scrambled this time.  They came out black so he threw them out. The bacon he burned black.  It was turkey bacon; he rarely ever makes pork bacon because of how bad for the heart it is.  I didn’t even know you could turn turkey bacon black until my dad tried to make it that first time right after Balthazar left.  I learned to accept it and eat it burned. The only way he can make eggs without totally ruining them is by boiling them.”

 

“What are you going to wear tonight?  Is the restaurant fancy?” Stacey asked.

 

“You know, I don’t know.  Let me ask Dean.”

 

Claire pulled up her conversation with Dean and sent him a new message.

 

_ “How fancy is your restaurant?  Should I have my dad wear a tie?  Should I wear a dress or are jeans and a tee shirt ok?” _

 

When he didn’t answer right away she figured he was busy at his restaurant.

 

“Maybe I should wear a dress, just in case,” she said thoughtfully.

 

“Oh!  We will help you pick out your clothes!”  Stacey was on her feet and running for the back flight of stairs that led up to Claire’s room.

 

“Something tells me I’m not going to get any say in what I’m wearing tonight.”  Claire laughed as she and Hannah both stood up. She had her mug of coffee in one hand and her cellphone in the other.  Hannah smirked.

 

“You know you don’t.  Come on, let’s see what she is picking out.”

 

Claire rolled her eyes and followed her friends up to her room.  Stacey better not pick out heels.


	6. Chapter 6

Cas arrived home a little after five and was greeted by the sound of giggling teenage girls.  That meant Hannah and probably Stacey were over. He shrugged off his suit jacket and hung it in the front hall closet before following the laughter out to the backyard.  The girls were in the pool, splashing around and laughing.

 

“Oh, hey, Dad, you just get home?”  Claire asked when she spotted him.

 

“Yes.  I’m going to shower and pick out something to wear.  Do you know the dress code for the restaurant? I’d really like to  _ not _ wear another suit if I don’t have to.”  He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, watching as Stacey dove into the water.  She was an impressive swimmer on the school swim team with Claire.

 

“I asked Dean that and he says semi-casual.  So dress shirt and pants. I laid an outfit out for you on your bed,” she replied.

 

“I picked out Claire’s outfit.  She’s going to look so cute!” Stacey leaned on the edge of the pool next to Claire and smiled up at him.  

 

“In case there are cute teenage boys, I assume?”  He laughed. 

 

“Of course!  She has to look good in case there are any.”  

 

“I’m sure.  Alright, I’ll go take my shower.  Claire, you should take one too so you don’t smell like chlorine at dinner.”  He pushed off the door frame and disappeared back into the house.

 

“He’s right.  Go shower, and then I’ll style your hair.”  Stacey pushed her towards the steps to get out.

 

“And I’ll do your makeup!”  Hannah added from her seat on the lounge a few feet away.

 

“Fine, fine, I’ll go shower.”

 

“Double condition, use that hair mask I had you pick up the last time we went shopping.”  Stacey instructed as she followed Claire out of the pool. They toweled off and then all three girls headed inside and up to Claire’s room.

 

“Are you excited?  Do you think your dad will like Dean?”  Hannah asked.

 

“I think he will.  He’s at least going to think Dean’s hot, and that’s a start.”  Claire giggled and her friends joined in. Stacey pushed her in the direction of her bathroom, so she went to take her shower, leaving it up to them to style her hair and do her makeup.  Hey, it was less for her to have to do.

 

When she emerged some 30 minutes later, dressed in the light blue dress Stacey had picked out for her with the cropped, white sweater over it, she was rushed over to her dressing table so they could fuss over her.  She had naturally curly hair but Stacey seemed to think straightening it was the way to go. Hannah did her makeup and she just sat back to let them. 

 

At 6:15 her dad knocked on her door.

 

“It’s time to go, honey, if we don’t leave now we might not make our reservations.”

 

“She’s ready,”  Stacey announced proudly.  “Doesn’t she look great?”

 

“She’s beautiful, but then again she always is.”  Cas smiled at his daughter, who was rolling her eyes at her friends.

 

“Let’s go, they’ve tortured me enough.”  Claire grabbed her purse off the bed and followed after her dad.  Her friends were right behind her.

 

Out on the porch they hugged her, and Stacey winked before they hurried off towards Hannah’s car.  Claire was glad her dad didn’t pick up on how weird her friends were acting. He’d pulled his Mercedes out of the garage, the one he drove when he wasn’t sure how bad traffic would be, or parking.  The compact size and engine power allowed him to cut around people easily. Sometimes the Chicago in him came out, and it was usually when they were stuck in traffic somewhere.


	7. Chapter 7

The drive to the restaurant was pleasant, the ocean air warm in the fading evening light, but not unbearably so.  When they reached the restaurant, she did a quick check of the time on her phone and was relieved to see that they had 12 minutes to spare.  There was valet parking and after handing over the keys, Cas offered Claire his arm and they walked inside. They were greeted by a woman with long, dark hair and a friendly smile.  She was carrying a tablet in her hands.

 

“Welcome to Impala Rose, do you have a reservation?”

 

“Yes, we’re guests of Dean Winchester,” Claire replied.  The woman’s face lit up with recognition and her dark eyes immediately swept over to Cas who was looking around the foyer with interest, unaware that he was the subject of this woman’s attention.

 

“Yes, Mr. Winchester is expecting you.  He has arranged for you to sit at his private table.  If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you there.”

 

Claire was almost giddy with excitement as they followed her into the dining room.  Every table was full, save for one booth in the far back that offered a lovely view of the ocean.  She sat down on the side that gave her a view of the kitchen doors, which put her dad’s back to them.  

 

“Your server will be with you shortly.  I do hope you both enjoy your meals.” She offered one last smile before turning and heading back to the lobby.

 

“This place is nice.  Look at this view! He gave us his private table?  Why?” Cas asked. Claire played dumb, just shrugging as she eyed the kitchen doors.

 

“I guess cause we’re friends.  He’s a really nice guy, posts recipes and stuff on his page, and things like what kind of wine goes with what meal.  You know that time last year when I made the pot roast with the red wine? That was one of his recipes. I don’t think I did it justice, but I tried.”  

 

“That pot roast was amazing.  You really got it from him?” 

 

“Yep.  He puts up a new recipe every Thursday.  Most of them I don’t dare attempt, but I’ve tried a few with moderate degrees of success.  He has given me a real interest in cooking,” She replied. Her dad smiled as he looked over at her.

 

“Really?  Enough of one to want to go to culinary school?”

 

“I don’t know.  Maybe. He makes cooking seem fun and easy.  Well, at least for me, it is.” 

 

Her dad’s smile fell and his shoulders sagged.  “I never had an interest in it growing up. Besides, your grandparents were very old fashioned, believing that only women should be in the kitchen, not men, so your uncles Michael, Gabriel and myself, we were all discouraged from learning to cook.  When your mom and I were still together, she wouldn’t let me near the stove because I burned all her pans in our first year of marriage. After we divorced I relied on takeout far too much. Then Balthazar came along, and he banned me from the kitchen too.  I never bothered to watch him or ask him to show me how to make things. When we split I knew I had to figure out how to do it on my own. I thought that if I followed recipes carefully I could do it, but I just…I suck at it. You’d think that if I can open up a person’s chest and repair or replace their heart, I should be able to make some damn spaghetti, but I can’t.  It’s shameful, really. I feel like an important life skill was lost on me. I’m at least glad that Balthazar showed you how to cook. Had that been left up to me you’d likely be as awful at it as I am.”

 

She reached across the table to squeeze his hand.  “Dad, I told you, you’re amazing and you do amazing things.  So what if you can’t cook? You can find a hot boyfriend to show you.  Just…wait to do naked cooking until I’m at a friend’s house, or asleep, ok?”

 

He barked out a startled laugh before his jaw dropped in shock.  “Claire Elizabeth! I do  _ not _ believe that just came out of your mouth!”

 

She grinned at him, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.  “This is me we’re talking about, did you  _ really _ expect anything else?”

 

He laughed and shook his head.  “No, I suppose not.”

 

Their server arrived, offering them menus and listing the specials, all of which sounded delicious.  She took their drink order and left to go get them, giving them several minutes to look over the menus and decide what they wanted.

 

"Dad, they have a jalapeno and cheddar burger.  That sounds awesome.”

 

“I’m leaning towards the mushroom and Swiss.  They offer six different kinds of fries too. The rosemary and parmesan sound delicious,” he said.

 

“There’s everything from steak to filet mignon on here.  It’s so cool that they specialize in burgers though. They’re Dean’s favorite food.”  She glanced up at her father to see a soft smile form on his lips.

 

“They’re mine too but being that I’m a heart surgeon, I do not often indulge in red meat.  I live on salads when I’m at work.” 

 

“I know.  It’s why you have a rockin’ body.  So many of my friends are crushing on you,” she teased.  His cheeks reddened as he frowned, trying and failing to appear stern.

 

“That’s…no, they’re children, that’s not right!”

 

“Dad, they know you’re unobtainable.  Plus you’re gay, so they wouldn’t have a chance even if they were older.”  

 

Their server returned, placing drinks and a basket of warm, crusty bread on the table, along with a little plate of butter.  Claire took a piece and began buttering it as her dad read their orders to the woman. He had decided to try the rosemary parmesan fries while she opted to try the house ranch ones.  She left to put their order in, and Claire took her first bite of bread.

 

“Oh my God, this is the best bread I’ve ever had!”  She groaned. Cas smiled in amusement as he buttered a piece for himself and took a bite.  His own reaction was the same.

 

“I have never had bread this good!  They did something with the butter, it’s infused with something.  Garlic, maybe? It’s amazing!”

 

“Garlic and olive oil, actually.  We make the butter ourselves.” A deep voice caught them both off guard, and they looked up to see Dean Winchester standing there.  

 

“Hi, Dean, I’m Claire, this is my dad, Cas.”

 

Cas’ eyes widened as he realized he was looking at the restaurant’s owner, who was shaking hands with his daughter.

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Claire.”  His gaze swung over to Cas and his smile grew even wider.  “And her dad, the heart surgeon. She’s told me a little about you, all good things, of course.”

 

Cas put his piece of bread down and quickly wiped his hands on his napkin before shaking the hand being extended to him.  

 

“She talks about me?  On Twitter?”

 

“Just a bit.  I only just learned today that you are a heart surgeon.  That’s…” Dean seemed to be searching for the right words.  “It’s pretty amazing.”

 

Cas realized he was still holding the man’s hand and quickly let go.  His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment as he glanced between his daughter and Dean.

 

“Oh, thank you.”  

 

Claire snickered at how shy her dad had suddenly become.  He tended to do that around handsome men, and she noticed that Dean seemed unable to take his eyes off her dad.

 

“So, Cas, are you from California?”  Dean asked.

 

“No, I’m from Illinois, Chicago to be exact.  I went to school here and then was hired on at the hospital, so I just stayed.”  Cas kept glancing up at him but those green eyes never left his face.

 

“I’m a Kansas native, myself.  I went to business college in Chicago though, before moving here and going to culinary school.  Great city, and I almost stayed there, except my brother decided that after attending Stanford, he wasn’t returning to Kansas.  He’s the only family I have left, so I came out west. I lucked out in that I went to work for one of the top Hollywood chefs. It made it possible for me to learn a lot.  I used money from my dad’s life insurance policy to open this place. It still surprises me how well my restaurants do, but I’m very thankful for it.”

 

“Oh, I almost forgot!  Thank you so very much for this invitation.  This is my first time eating here, though I’ve heard nothing but good things about the food.”  Cas said, finally looking him straight in the eye. Dean’s smile was flirty and yet humble at the same time.

 

“You’re quite welcome.  I know it’s your first time eating here, and I hope the food is up to your expectations.”  

 

Claire looked between them when they both fell silent, so she took matters into her own hands.

 

“So, Dean, are you busy?  Would you like to join us?”

 

“Claire, he must be busy, he runs a restaurant!” her dad hissed.  Dean chuckled, his smile growing wide again.

 

“Actually, I am not busy right now.  I only stopped by tonight to meet you both, and make sure you were getting rock star treatment.  I’m totally free, but I don’t want to impose on your dinner. I was planning to take mine in the kitchen.”  

 

“N-no, we don’t mind at all, do we, Claire.  It would be an honor if you joined us.” Cas was ten shades of red as he watched Dean motion to someone for them to bring over a chair.  He sat down, and a moment later a glass of sweet tea was being placed in front of him.

 

“I’m a Southern boy at heart.  Gotta have my sweet tea,” he joked as he lifted his glass and took a sip.  Claire hid her smile behind her hand when she caught her dad staring at Dean’s throat as he swallowed.  She’d been spot on, her dad was totally interested.

 

“I’ve never been to Kansas.  All I know of it was that Dorothy lived there and was swept up in a tornado.  I later read that there are a lot of tornadoes across the state, and Oklahoma.”  Cas’ eye twitched, something that happened when he thought he’d just said something stupid.  Claire was quick to save him though.

 

“Yep, you’re totally right, Dad, there are a lot of tornadoes through the central part of the country, but with climate changes we’re seeing them pop up in even more places.  A few years back there was that one in Chicago, remember? Uncle Michael mentioned it. Tore shingles off his roof with the high winds.”

 

“You’re right, I do remember that,” he said.  “It wasn’t a bad one, but it still did quite a bit of damage.”

 

“I thankfully never saw one growing up, but I lived in the city, not the country.  There were a few not far from where I lived, but we were spared.” Dean looked thoughtfully out the window for a moment.  “I didn’t see my first tornado until I was visiting friends in Kentucky a few years ago. We actually had to go down into an underground shelter.  It skirted their property but tore up their neighbor’s house. I helped the next day to look for survivors. Thankfully, everyone lived. It was terrifying though.  I’d say I’m glad to be away from tornadoes, but the earthquakes here are equally as terrifying.”

 

“Yes, you’re absolutely right.  My family called me foolish for settling down here.  I can’t even recall how many earthquakes we’ve lived through so far.  Heck, I even had to cancel Claire’s tenth birthday party because there was a bad one.  A few years back our pool cracked because of one.” Cas nibbled at his bread, talking between bites.  “But really, anywhere you move, there’s going to be some issue. Go south, there are hurricanes, go north, frigid winters and blizzards.  Stick to the middle, you get tornadoes.”

 

“True,” Dean agreed.  

 

“I was telling my dad about how you do your Throwback to Food Thursdays on Twitter, and how I’ve tried to make a few dishes.  He especially loved the pot roast I made last year with the red wine base.” Claire was desperate to turn the conversation away from the boring natural disaster small talk they were having and onto something that would interest all of them.  Dean broke out in a dazzling smile that when she glanced over at her father, he was staring at the man, looking almost awestruck. 

 

“Really?  You tried making it?”

 

“I did, but I was afraid I’d dry it out in the oven, so I made it in the crock pot,” she replied.

 

“Crock pots are fantastic.  If you don’t trust your cooking skills or don’t want to slave over a hot stove, crock pots are a lifesaver.  I have three myself, and I make everything from chili to whole turkeys in them.”

 

“You can make a turkey in a crock pot?”  Cas asked, surprised by that.

 

“Absolutely.  You can brine it or add a marinade or seasonings, place it in the crock pot, and pretty much forget it for like, four to six hours, depending on the size of the bird, or whether it was fully defrosted,”  Dean replied.

 

“Huh, I have one but I’ve never used it, only Claire has.”  

 

“I could give you a few recipes, if you like,” Dean offered.  That sweet, shy smile returned to Cas’ lips as he looked at the man.

 

“I’d appreciate that, but honestly, I’m an atrocious cook.  I can make boiled eggs, or boiled potatoes, though I’ve messed those up quite a bit by overcooking them.  I make a mean salad,” Cas joked. 

 

“Hey, salads are good.  There are tons of stuff you can add to them so that no two taste the same.  We have a gorgonzola salad here with apples and walnuts, and it’s drizzled with red wine vinaigrette.  I used to hate salads until I started playing around with the different things I could add to them. Now I like them and have a different one every day,”  Dean told him.

 

“That…it really sounds wonderful.  I don’t think I’ve ever tried gorgonzola,”  Cas admitted.

 

“Would you like to try it?  We’re a little busy so it will be another 15 or so until your food is here.  A salad is a nice segue into a the main dish,” Dean offered. Cas glanced at his daughter, who nodded encouragingly.

 

“If it’s not a bother, I’d love to.”

 

Dean waved to someone who came over, and he asked the man to bring out two salads.  He nodded and hurried off to the kitchen.

 

“So, Claire, you’re in what year of high school?”  He asked, turning his attention back to his guests.

 

“I’m a junior.  My last day is in two weeks, then it’s summer break but I’m on the swim team, so I’ll be practicing a lot.  Poor Dad, he misses me when I’m away at swim camp.” She ignored the hole her father was staring into her head and took a bite of her bread.  

 

“Oh, swimming?  That’s pretty cool.  I played baseball in high school, and basketball my senior year.  I wasn’t very good at basketball though.” Dean chuckled. “It sounds like you’re going to have a pretty busy summer.”

 

“I am.  I have swimming practice until the end of June, then I leave for swim camp, which is four weeks long.  It’s for strength and endurance in the water. We have one of the best swim teams in the state because of it.  When that’s over, I will be going to visit my Uncle Gabe out in Arizona. He’s about to be a dad again and by the time I get out there, I’ll have a new cousin.  I’m looking forward to hanging out with my cousins.” She was still ignoring the now-suspicious look her dad was giving her.

 

“My brother just had his second baby last winter.  He has two boys, Lucas, who is four and Emmett who is almost six months now.  I spoil them rotten.” Dean smiled before taking another sip of his tea.

 

“Do you have children?”  Cas asked him. Dean shook his head.

 

“No, I haven’t been lucky enough to find someone that wants to stick around once they know how hard I work to maintain my business.  I work less now that I have competent staff. Frees up more of my time lately.”

 

“That has been an issue for me as well.  As a surgeon, when a surgery is scheduled, I can plan around it, but when it’s an emergency, I have to drop everything and get to the hospital.  That has led to some…issues.” Cas frowned for a second before picking up his own glass of tea and taking a sip.

 

“You’re sugar coating it.  Balthazar cheated because he was a jerk.  It was  _ not _ your fault.”  Claire hated when her father blamed himself for his ex’s infidelity.  Cas shot her a look of annoyance but didn’t argue.

 

“It’s hard to recover when someone cheats on you.  I’ve had it happen to me too. My last boyfriend? I was with him two years before I found out he was cheating, and with his high school sweetheart.  When I caught them he tried to make it seem like it was my fault, that I was always at work and never had time for him but the truth was, I  _ always _ made time for him.  He would always find excuses to be somewhere else when I’d be home.  That was hard.” Dean admitted, a small frown marring his otherwise handsome face, though only for a moment.  He sighed and gave a small smile that looked forced. “I’m in a good place now though.”

 

“It’s definitely hard.  I’ve gotten over what Balthazar did to me.  The only thing I miss is his cooking. He thankfully taught Claire to cook, but I was not permitted in the kitchen.  Since we split two years ago I’ve been trying different recipes, but without much success. Claire and I eat a lot of sushi and salads when I ruin a meal,”  Cas confessed.

 

The salads were brought out and both Cas and Claire’s eyes were wide with shock when they saw the sheer size of them.

 

“Don’t feel that you have to finish them.  I forgot to specify that they were supposed to make appetizer size, not meal size,”  Dean said. Cas picked up his fork and dug in, spearing as many leaves and bits of cheese as he could.  His first bite had him groaning with how good it was.

 

“This is wonderful!  I do  _ not _ make salads this good!  I’ve added dried cranberries, almonds, things of that nature, but nothing this good.”

 

Dean stared as Cas continued making pleased little sounds at the back of his throat as he ate.  Claire hid her grin behind a mouthful of food.

 

They barely got halfway through their salads before their food was brought out. Dean’s meal was with theirs, and a stuffed chicken breast with steamed asparagus and roasted, sliced potatoes was set down in front of him.

 

“I feel guilty now.  I’m a heart surgeon, and here I am eating a burger when I should be having what you’re having,”  Cas joked. Dean laughed softly as he began cutting into his chicken.

 

“Yes, well, I have cut back drastically on my burgers in the last ten years or so.  Heart disease runs in the family and I’d like to avoid it.” He flashed another dazzling smile at Cas, causing the other man to blush yet again.  

 

The burgers were cut in half, for which Cas was grateful, and he picked half up to take a bite.  Another sinful moan slipped past his lips, and Dean nearly dropped his fork at the sound. 

 

“It’s, uh, good, I take it?”  He cleared his throat after his voice cracked.

 

“This is, by far, the best burger I’ve ever eaten,” Cas said before eagerly taking another bite.  Across the table Claire was almost panting, her eyes watering as she took a second bite of hers.

 

“Did you get the jalapeno or the ghost pepper one?”  Dean asked her.

 

“Jalapeno.  I don’t mess with ghost peppers.”  She grabbed her tea and took a generous sip.

 

“Claire likes spicy food a lot,”  Cas explained.

 

“I do too, but it doesn’t agree with me anymore.”  Dean laughed. Cas smiled.

 

“Me either.”

 

Dean initiated small talk with Cas that Claire was content to sit back and listen to without interrupting.  They mostly talked about food, but somehow the conversation turned to interests and hobbies, and suddenly she  _ did _ feel like a third wheel.  She was fine with it though.  All through dinner she’d been live tweeting, careful to keep her phone under the table and out of sight of both men.  Her dad was becoming more comfortable, opening up as he talked about his work, his hobbies, and his interests. Dean seemed to hang on his every word, and she could tell that pleased her dad to no end.  Usually people tuned him out when he talked about the things he liked to do, but Dean wasn’t doing that at all. He was not only listening, he was hearing what her dad had to say. 

 

When the meal was coming to an end Dean asked them if they had room for dessert.

 

“We have a dozen different flavors of pie, triple chocolate cake, tiramisu, brownie sundaes, any of that interest you?”

 

“I should pass.  As much as I’d love a piece of pie I’ll already have to double my run tomorrow to burn all this off.”  Cas replied with a chuckle. Dean smiled at him as his gaze wandered appreciatively over the man’s body.

 

“Your runs are definitely paying off, you look fantastic.”

 

Cas blushed so hard at the compliment that even the tips of his ears were red.  He smiled shyly over at the chef.

 

“Thank you.  I have always enjoyed exercising, but running is a big part of it.”

 

“Your dedication to your physical health is impressive.  Maybe if I ran my body would look as good as yours does.”  Dean winked, chuckling at the shocked little squawk Cas made before slapping a hand over his mouth.

 

“I think my dad is flattered despite his shyness,” Claire said, giggling.  She decided that now was the perfect time to use the bathroom, but she wasn’t giving her dad a chance to escape. “I’d like a slice of cherry pie, if you have it.”

 

“We sure do.  A la mode?” Dean asked her.  She nodded and again he motioned to someone, this time their server who came immediately.  He ordered two slices of pie, and she left to go get them.

 

“I…have to use the bathroom.  I’ll be back in a few minutes.”  She slid out of her seat, smoothing down her dress before leaving.  Cas swallowed hard before looking over at Dean and finding the man watching him.

 

“Did you enjoy your meal?”

 

“Oh, yes, very much.  I would like to attempt something similar to what you did with the fries, but I’m afraid I’d just mess them up,” Cas confessed.  “I really am horrendous at cooking. Claire tells me all the time that it’s ok, not everyone can do everything and that my gift is medicine.  She says it’s ok that I’m not good at cooking because I’m doing something important when I’m saving peoples’ lives.”

 

“She sounds like a very wise young lady,”  Dean said.

 

“She is.”  Cas licked his lips slowly, hyper aware that Dean was tracking the motion.  “Dean?”

 

The man’s gaze snapped up to his eyes and he smiled.  “Yes?”

 

“Can you please answer one question for me?”

 

Dean’s smile wavered for a moment before he nodded.  “Sure.”

 

“Was my daughter trying to set us up tonight?”

 

Dean’s smile was back full force as he laughed softly.  “No, actually, she wasn’t. But…I have a confession to make.  Cas arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. Dean darted his tongue out to lick his own lips, his cheeks reddening as he looked the man in the eye.

 

“She…well, she shared a picture of you on Twitter.  I saw it and uh, I was interested in meeting you. She didn’t put it up to like, get guys asking about you, but they did.  I wasn’t sure if she would introduce you to any of them, and I sort of…got jealous? Because I wanted to meet you first.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, waiting with bated breath to see how Cas would react.

 

“She put a picture of  _ me _ up on Twitter?  But why?” Cas asked.

 

“Well, it was in reference to the way you were cooking bacon this morning.”  

 

“That little…” Cas took a deep breath and exhaled in a huff.  “Because I forgot to thaw it before I tried to cook it, right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Cas’ eyes widened suddenly as his cheeks tinged red once more.  “Was it before or after I put an apron on?”

 

Dean dropped his eyes to the table top, suddenly feeling very small, and certain that he’d lost any chance of this man genuinely liking him back.

 

“Before.”

 

“Oh.”  Cas sat there quietly, one corner of his lower lip trapped between his teeth as he stared out the window at the water.  “You were interested in my body, not me.”

 

“No, you’re wrong.  Yes, you’re like, gorgeous, but I got to talking to Claire and she told me you were really sweet and shy, and…I liked that.  I wanted to see for myself if you were half as nice as she made you out to be. You’re nicer than I expected.” Dean waited, certain that he’d be told to drop dead but he wanted to be honest with the man.  He’d kept most of Claire’s secret about her Twitter account but he knew he might slip up later if Cas asked how he knew the doctor had a tattoo of a heart with Claire’s name and birthdate over his left pec, and angel wings on his left bicep.  Then there were the words written in some language he hadn’t recognized on the man’s ribs, though most of it was hidden from sight by the way he’d been standing in the picture…

 

“Would you like to go out sometime?”  Cas asked, totally catching him off guard.

 

“What?”

 

Cas smiled softly, turning away from the window to look at him again.  His eyes were so blue this close up. “I asked if you would like to go out sometime.”

 

“I’d love to,”  Dean replied quickly.  “Man, I would really,  _ really _ love to.”

 

Cas chuckled as he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone.  “Can I get your number?”

 

Dean pulled his own phone out and they exchanged numbers.  He was so relieved that Cas didn’t hate him and wanted to see him again.  Technically this wasn’t a date, but he intended to be as charming as possible the next time he saw Cas, without coming off as cocky or fake.  

 

“When are you free?” Dean asked.

 

“Well, I have two surgeries scheduled tomorrow and I’ll be exhausted by the time I get home, but I’m free Tuesday evening.”  Cas checked his calendar on his phone. “Yes, I have one surgery scheduled in the morning, then clinic hours, a consultation at 4:30, and then I’m free the rest of the evening.”

 

“We can go out for dinner, maybe do something fun, like miniature golf, or laser tag.  Or whatever you would like to do.” Dean just wanted to spend time with him.

 

“Oh, I haven’t done laser tag in, like, 20 years,”  Cas smiled. “It was fun. I went in college with friends.”

 

“Yeah?  I haven’t done it in a few years, not since before my brother got married.  He and I used to go together. You’re in shape, I bet you won’t even get winded.”  Dean teased. Cas laughed softly and shrugged.

 

“Maybe.  Depends on the course.”

 

The pie slices arrived and Dean set the one with ice cream down in front of Claire’s still empty seat.  

 

“Where on earth is she?”  Cas asked, looking around.

 

“I’m guessing she was giving us time to talk.  I think she was hoping I’d ask you out, but you beat me to it.”  Dean replied with a grin. Cas chuckled and sent a text to his daughter, telling her it was safe to come out now.  A minute later she came walking back into the room. She slid back into her seat with a smile and picked up her fork.

 

“This looks amazing.  It’s so full of fruit!”  She cut a piece off, making sure to grab some of the ice cream, and ate it.  

 

“Good?”  Dean asked.

 

“This might just be the best pie I’ve ever had,” she confessed as she cut off a bigger piece.

 

“I make them myself from my mom’s old recipes.  I had to tweak them a bit, but I think they came out even better than what she used to make.  Nothing ever beat her apple pie though. I stick to her recipe for that,” Dean explained.

 

Cas picked up his fork and stole a piece of his daughter’s slice.  He put it in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

 

“This is delicious, better than anything I’ve bought in stores.”

 

Dean grinned and slid the other slice over to him.

 

“I got this for you.”

 

Cas shook his head, even as he smiled.  “I am going to be running forever tomorrow morning.”

 

“It’s worth it, this pie is fantastic.”  Claire said before taking another bite of her slice.

 

She finished her slice and sat back with a look of contentment on her face.  Cas was done with his only a few moments later.

 

“I definitely want to come back here again, the food is  _ so _ good.”  She smiled at her dad, who looked at her with one eyebrow raised.  “What?”

 

“I understand that you put a picture of me up on Twitter, and that men were asking you if they could meet me.”  He turned to look at Dean, both eyebrows rising in surprise as he realized he’d missed a huge part of what the man had said to him earlier.  “Did you say  _ multiple  _ men were asking about me?”

 

“And women, but she shot them down quickly.”  Dean jerked a thumb in Claire’s direction.

 

“Dean!  Why?” She hissed.

 

“I told him about how you posted the picture of him cooking bacon and people started asking you about him, but I made that joke and we got to talking and I invited you both to have dinner here tonight,”  Dean said smoothly. She realized he hadn’t told her dad the most important part, about what her Twitter revolved around.

 

“Oh, sorry, Dad, I just thought the hunk of bacon in the pan was funny.  It didn’t even occur to me that you were cooking shirtless until after you got hit with the grease.  By that point I already had the picture posted. I’ll take it down though.” 

 

“No, I’m not worried about it.  I have nothing to be ashamed of, besides maybe my cooking skills.”  Cas joked, grinning when Dean laughed.

 

“Hey, I will personally teach you how to cook.”  Dean promised. Cas’ smile grew even wider.

 

“I hope you realize you’ll have your work cut out for you.”

 

Dean winked and flashed him a flirty smile.

 

“Good thing I like a like a challenge.”

 

Claire added to her live tweet as her dad and Dean were busy flirting.

 

_ “It’s a go, my dad has a date, and future cooking lessons!” _

 


	8. Chapter 8

_ “Today my dad made scalloped potatoes and a seasoned pork roast for dinner.  The roast was only a little dry, and the potatoes were still a little undercooked, but I popped them in the microwave for a few minutes and they softened.  They were really good. Since he met Dean his cooking has made so much progress. It’s not perfect, but it beats burned food!” _

 

_ “Dean is such a good influence on him.  It must be awesome having a professional chef for a boyfriend.” _

 

_ “I bet potatoes and roasts aren’t the only thing they’re cooking together!” _

 

_ “They’re so cute together.  Have they baked pies together too?” _

 

_ “Your dad is soooo hot!” _

 

Claire read through each new comment on her tweet.  Since her dad and Dean had started getting serious a little more than five years earlier, his cooking had begun to slowly improve.  She was infinitely grateful for Dean’s patience and understanding. So many pans had been burned and food under/overcooked before Dean got him to invest in a new stove.  That made a huge difference, and from there things just got better.

 

She had learned that while people loved hearing about her dad’s cooking mishaps, they loved hearing about him learning to cook even more.  Her followers tripled not long after she’d announced that her dad and Dean were dating, and the number continued to rise since then. Now she had more than 20,000 followers, and shortly after she turned 18 she became verified. Her dad knew now what her Twitter was about but he didn’t care.  He’d gotten a fantastic boyfriend that he was totally in love with. She’d opted to go to school locally, deciding on culinary school, much to Dean’s delight. Even her dad was proud of her. She was home every night, still making her regular updates about everything her dad tried making on his own, and now she added in her own foray into the world of gourmet cooking.  

 

The night of her dad and Dean’s sixth anniversary she decided to surprise them by making tiramisu.  It was Dean’s recipe, and she had spent an entire afternoon trying to get it just right. Pastries were not her strong suit, but she wasn’t bad at making them.  Dean had suffered through many of her early experiments, and he’d been working with her to perfect her skills ever since. After her dad and Dean had bought a house together, one with a much bigger kitchen for all three of them to work in comfortably without bumping into one another, she’d really begun to work on her pastry-making skills.  At Dean’s insistence she had gone to school first for business, and then to culinary school, which she was almost done with. When she was finished, Dean had promised her a job at any of his five restaurants. In the last three years he’d opened two new ones, another one in Los Angeles and one in Fresno. 

 

The cake turned out perfect, and she placed it inside the pastry fridge Dean had added the year before.  Just as she was closing the door, he came walking in the room. The anxious expression on his face alarmed her.

 

“Is your dad home yet?” he asked.

 

“No, he had an emergency quadruple bypass come in this afternoon.  He’ll probably be home around eight. Why? What’s wrong?”

 

He ran one hand through his hair and for the first time she noticed how much gray there was.  It looked good on him though.

 

“I, uh, it’s our anniversary today.”

 

“I know, I made the cake, remember?”  She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes.  “Seriously, what’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing is wrong.  I, I’m…” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a little, black velvet box.  She gasped when she realized what he was planning to do.

 

“You’re going to ask my dad to marry you!”

 

“Yeah, do you think he’ll say yes?”

 

“Of course he’ll say yes!  He’s head over heels in love with you.  Oh! You have to do it romantically, sweep him off his feet!”  She hurried over and hugged him tight. “This is wonderful! Do you want me to make dinner too?  I can, so you can shower and get dressed and stuff. How about Cornish hens in a lemon rosemary herb sauce?”

 

“Actually, that sounds really good.  Write that recipe down, I’d like to try making it later.  It would really help me out if you handled dinner. Thanks, hon.”  He kissed her cheek before turning to leave.

 

“Wait!  Can I see it?” she asked.  He walked back over and opened the box.

 

“Oh…it’s beautiful, he’s going to love it!”

 

Dean touched the silver colored band and smiled.  He’d gone with brushed titanium with polished edges and a rose design with tiny flowers and leaves etched into the band, going all the way around.  

 

“Yeah?  I spent a lot of time discussing with the jeweler what ring would be good for a doctor, especially a surgeon.  She advised against stones as they could sometimes fall out. I had the scrollwork added because the band seemed really plain without it.”

 

“It’s thoughtful, hand designed, and something he will wear with pride.  If he cries tonight, you better take pictures.” 

 

He chuckled as he started for the door again.  “New potatoes in a creamy garlic butter sauce will go nicely with the hens you’re making.  And maybe see what vegetables are still in the fridge? Pick a nice blend of them.”

 

“You got it.”  She saluted him before heading to the fridge to get out what she was going to need.  Dinner had to be done before her dad got home. She had approximately two hours to create the perfect, romantic dinner her father and Dean deserved.  Challenge accepted.

 

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

 

Cas was tired when he walked into the kitchen from the connected garage, but the smell of food cooking instantly made his stomach growl.  Claire was busy pulling something out of the oven and hadn’t noticed him until she was standing up and nudging the oven door closed.

 

“Oh, hey, Dad.  How did the surgery go?”

 

“It went well.  I had Ahmed stick around to give the aftercare lecture about diet and exercise.  I wanted to come home and spend time with Dean. I feel awful that I had to work so late on our anniversary.”  He sighed heavily as he loosened his tie. “Is he here?”

 

“He’s upstairs getting ready.  I offered to make dinner for you both, and I made dessert too.  Why don’t you go relax for a bit? He’ll be done soon.” She shooed him out of the kitchen, so he headed for the living room.  The couch was so soft and comfortable that he didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep until he felt soft lips pressing against his own.  His eyes fluttered open to see Dean crouching in front of him.

 

“Sorry, long day,” he murmured before kissing Dean again.

 

“It’s alright, sweetheart.  Dinner’s ready, you hungry?”  

 

“Starving,” he replied. Dean stood up again, wincing when his knee twinged painfully.  Cas got to his feet and followed him into the dining room where a candlelit dinner for two was waiting.  He smiled as he took it all in.

 

“This is beautiful.  Happy anniversary, darling.”  He cupped Dean’s face and drew him into another kiss.  Dean smiled happily as he took Cas’ hand and led him to the table.

 

“Claire made your favorite, Cornish hens.  There are new potatoes, and she made a vegetable medley with roasted peppers, baby corn, purple, orange and yellow carrots, and pearl onions.  Sure smells amazing.” Dean held out his chair for him, and he smiled lovingly up at him as he sat down.

 

“It sounds wonderful.  You both make some of the most wonderful dishes.”

 

Dean sat down in his chair and opened the lid on the dish closest to him.  It was the vegetables, so he used the spoon provided to add some to both of their plates. 

 

“This all smells amazing.”  Cas’ smile only grew wider as Dean added one of the Cornish hens to his plate, and then the potatoes.

 

“She’s fantastic.  If she keeps adding experience, she’ll be a master chef with her own restaurant one day.”  Dean was proud of how far Claire had come, and how many dishes she had already mastered. Heck, he had even borrowed some recipes from her to add to the restaurants’ menu.  

 

“She loves you, you know,” Cas said softly as Dean picked up his fork and knife to start eating.  He picked up his own and cut into his chicken. 

 

“I know.  I love her too, like she’s my own.”  Dean picked up the bottle of wine he’d left open to breathe and poured them both some.

 

“I’m sorry I had to work today, I tried to reschedule my consultations and get Fergus to take over my clinic hours and I did managed that, except one of my patients had a heart attack.  I’d already put in two stents, but the damage was so severe that I had to do a quadruple bypass. I’m hoping now that his health will continue to improve.” 

 

Dean reached over to take his hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it gently.  “Sweetheart, I understand completely. You know I’d never hold that against you. Your work is important and anniversaries, while I like celebrating them, they’re really just sentimental, and not more important than you saving lives.  You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever known.”

 

Cas smiled so wide every tooth in his mouth showed and his nose wrinkled up in the adorable way Dean loved.  He was so totally and completely gone on this man. 

 

“I love you so much,” Cas told him.  Dean smiled back just as wide.

 

“I feel the same way, babe.  I love you more than anything.”

 

Their meal was delicious, and Cas raved over all of it. He’d never be as good at cooking as Dean or his daughter, but at least he could make a variety of meals without burning all of it.  He still preferred Dean’s or Claire’s cooking to his own. 

 

When they were finished eating, Dean told him to sit tight while he cleared the table.  Cas sipped at his wine as he waited for him to return. When his boyfriend came back he was carrying a beautiful, chocolate glazed cake.  Perched on the top were a handful of raspberries with mint leaves tucked beneath them for garnish. It was gorgeous.

 

“Oh, that looks amazing!  Is that tiramisu?” 

 

Dean nodded as he set the cake down and got two cake plates out for them.  He cut them both a slice and Cas eagerly took his. After he sat down, Dean picked up his fork and dug in.

 

“Oh…she did a fantastic job on this,” he groaned.

 

“Claire made this?”  Cas took a bite of his own, his eyes closing as he savored the flavors.

 

“She wanted to.  It’s her anniversary present to us.  She doubts her pastry-making skills, but she has a natural gift for it.”

 

“I agree, this is possibly the most delicious tiramisu I’ve ever had.”  Cas finished his piece and washed it down with the rest of the wine in his glass.  Dean quickly refilled it.

 

“Leave the plates, I’ll clean it up later.”  He offered his hand and Cas took it. Dean led him into the living room where they sat down together.

 

“I have a gift for you,” Cas announced as they settled back on the couch together.

 

“Is it sex?”  Dean asked, waggling his eyebrows playfully.  Cas laughed, but sex was part of what he was looking forward to later.

 

“Mmm, maybe later.  For now, I have this.”  He reached between the couch cushions to pull out a box made of leather and somewhat bulky.  Dean knew it was a watch, probably the one he’d recently been admiring. He set his glass of wine on the coffee table and took it.  When he opened it, there sat the watch he’d mentioned in passing a few months back that he was interested in getting, the Parmigiani Fleurier Toric Chonometre he’d seen when they’d taken a vacation to Italy just after Christmas.  He’d laid eyes on the watch and known that he wanted to add it to his collection. They’d come back without it, but somehow Cas had managed to get one. It wasn’t cheap. He was in awe of his boyfriend in that moment. No one had ever paid attention to his likes and dislikes to this extent before, or gone out of their way to make him happy.  No one had ever cared as much. It was why, for the first time in his life, he wanted to get married, because he knew that as much as he loved Cas, Cas loved him back just as much.

 

“Baby, this is awesome!  I am wearing it when we go to that fancy hospital fundraiser next week.  It will look amazing with my tux.” He took it out and switched out his Bulova for the new one.  

 

“It looks good on you.”  Cas set his glass on the coffee table and leaned against Dean’s side, content to watch as he looked at all the features this one had to offer.  When he lowered his arm and shifted to look at him, Cas sat back up again.

 

“I have something for you too, sweetheart.”

 

“I thought a fancy dinner and mind blowing sex was my gift,”  Cas joked, grinning at him. Dean chuckled before bringing a hand up to cup the back of Cas’ head so he could pull him closer and kiss his forehead.

 

“No, but I’m all up for the mind blowing sex part.  First, I have this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the little, velvet box.  When Cas looked down to see what he was doing, his eyes blew wide open.

 

“Dean?”

 

“Cas, I love you.  I have never loved anyone as much as I love you.  You and Claire? You gave me the family I always wanted, and I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but I want more than that.  I want to marry you. So, gorgeous, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

 

Tears were spilling down Cas’ cheeks as he watched Dean lift the ring from the box.

 

“Yes, Dean, I will marry you.  God, I want to so much!” 

 

Dean smiled as he took Cas’ hand, which was trembling so much it took him a few seconds to slide the ring on.

 

“I wanted to do something fancier, with diamonds or maybe sapphires since they remind me of your eyes, but after talking with the jeweler I realized that stones could fall out while you’re at work.  So, I chose a brushed titanium band with polished edges, and I had the scrollwork engraved. It’s roses, since on our second date we went for that walk in the botanical gardens and you were gushing over the roses.  I bought you some later, tucked one behind your ear before kissing you for the first time.”

 

“I remember.  That was probably one of the most romantic moments of my life.  This is definitely another.” Cas placed his hands on either side of Dean’s face and pressed his lips softly to his fiancé’s.  “I love you,” he whispered.

 

“I love you too.”

 

“Is, um, Claire home?”  Cas asked. Dean grinned and shook his head.

 

“No, I paid for her to spend a couple days relaxing at the Hilton.  She left as soon as she was done making dinner.”

 

“Then I say we get started on that mind blowing sex.  Emphasis on the ‘blowing.’” Cas stood up and Dean did too, wrapping his arms around the man and nuzzling against his jaw.

 

“I’m totally on board with that.”

 

“Does Claire know?”  Cas took him by the hand and pulled him towards the stairs.

 

“Yep.  I showed her the ring, wanted her approval on it.  She loves it.”

 

“You’re so good to me.  I am looking forward to marrying you,”  Cas said as they entered their bedroom.

 

“Doctor Novak-Winchester.  Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”  Dean smiled and kissed him deeply.

 

“I love the sound of that.”  Cas kicked the door shut, more out of habit than anything, and grabbed the front of Dean’s shirt.  “Now show me just how much you want me.”

 

Dean was eager to do exactly that.  Meeting Cas all those years back, he’d known there was something special about the man who couldn’t cook to save his life, and it hadn’t take him long to fall in love with the shy, quirky doctor with the killer body and huge blue eyes.  If Cas wanted him to show him just how much he wanted him, well, he was going to prove that and more. Cas deserved it. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked my version of this prompt. I did have fun with it. I've been so busy with other stuff I'm writing that I didn't get around to posting this back when I wrote it, but I didn't forget. Thank you all for reading.


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